


in colors that don’t exist

by acornshaggins



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:52:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3842902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acornshaggins/pseuds/acornshaggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Too Late. That is our love's tragedy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	in colors that don’t exist

**Author's Note:**

> for the lovely rachel @[baggvinshield](http://baggvinshield.tumblr.com) on tumblr who was also my wonderful beta like seriously praise rachel and while you're at it, you can check out [my tumblr](http://bagqinshield.tumblr.com) as well.
> 
> WARNING FOR THIS FIC: severe angst. be prepared.

A veil of silence covered the battlefield.

. . .

_It had been hours._

Blood drenched the snow covered ground with broken spears and dented shields scattered among the fallen. A hush had fallen with the sun as the watching silent light left with slow heavy feet. A heavy weight hung in his chest as desperate hands searched, fingers numb from the cold. It was all too much.

_But Thorin still couldn't find him._

In great stories, the hero usually ends up striking a miracle in their victory. Sometimes it was the last resort slice of the sword that ended the era of suffering with one fateful twist of the hand. Sometimes it was the hero finding their true love safe and sound. You rarely heard the lurking truth though; the truth that hid among the fancifully crafted words that sung of happy endings. One would hope. But one could never be so lucky.

He eventually found him though. A crumpled figure in the distance. Him. Yes, him. The one person Thorin was looking for ever since the battle ended. Him. That one. Bilbo. Dressed in frayed foreign robes the color of a clear pond on an early evening. With mithril gleaming underneath with dried blood splashed across the ringlets.

His knees buckled underneath him and the anxious tangle in his chest hardened into stones that pulled him down to the ground. There had to be some hope left. Some lucky fix, another miracle. Anything.

_A collapsed lung, Gloin would later announce in a quiet voice that would silence everyone. A fractured rib punctured the lung. There was nothing to be done in the battlefield, especially alone and with no treatment._

Thorin knelt by Bilbo's limp body, cradling him in his arms as he stared at him. Those glassy eyes that often stole glances at him when he thought he wasn't looking, that crinkled with his laughter lines every time he laughed, that stared back with indignant rebellion when they first met. The light that not flickered, but danced and sang. Gone. Extinguished without a trace. 

His skin, once flush and tan, was pale and cold. His lips were chapped and a faint blue. His hair fell in a tangled bloody mess nearly to his shoulders. Thorin still reached out, his hand cupping Bilbo's face as he forced some of his warmth into him. The world held a painful stiffness that made him want to scream. Where was the quaking, the lightning, the doom and catastrophe? What, with Bilbo gone how could the world stay in such a state of no disturbance? 

"Bilbo," He croaked, his voice breaking off at the end and cracking with disbelief. "Wake up, ghivashel." Thorin asked of him with a voice soft with love and heavy with request.

Bilbo didn't stir. 

"Please open your eyes," He pleaded again, his normally broad shoulders crumpled with the weight of death and the inevitable truth. "It's over now, _please_ just _say something_ -" Thorin voice shook as tears burned his eyes and his heart knotted up in desperation.

_No, no, no, no, no no no nonononoo_

Time stopped and it's value dissipated as he stared forward, his expression mimicking the blank dead stare of Bilbo's gaze as everything blurred and everything lost it's meaning. It was like the entire world stopped functioning as a reality. It was a crumpled postcard with a bare hint of color that was stuffed at the bottom of a bag for weeks. 

_This can't be happening_

Thorin couldn't breathe. He was frozen in place. He just stared. There was no escape from the gaping hole inside of him that he was already drowning in.

_Not when we're so close_

Bilbo took a piece of Thorin with him when he left

_Please..._

 

. . .

 

The affronted look on Bilbo's face did nothing to help mask the wicked gleam of rebellion in his eyes.

There was something about him that got Thorin riled up and childish. This slip of the tongue, this seemingly sharp remark. Not even a remark really. A tease. The great Thorin Oakenshield _teasing_ despite the hell he's calmly walked through the past several decades of his life. It was a strange experience to meet someone who had no idea of the stories that trailed behind him nor the expectations most held him to. He would convince himself it was merely the thrill of meeting someone so new. If he felt his heart stutter in chest, he would never tell.

He would brush off Dwalin's knowing look when he passes him in the hall. It was nothing. He was nothing...

~~~~~~

That gaze sears right through him as Bilbo directs his words of home and loyalty to Thorin.

His eyes are sharp and clear with no bad intent. Determination steels his stare as Thorin can't help but look back. Caught. In that look. In that life that makes Bilbo glow and his cheeks burn.

It was like watching a forest fire and there was no resisting the warmth. 

~~~~~~

"Are you okay?"

Thorin looks up to find the timid yet genuine smile of Bilbo that curled his lips at the corner. A smile started to spread across his face out of his own accord but before he could reply, a sharp pang of pain contracted around the warg bite wound in his torso. 

Bilbo immediately stepped forward, putting his hands on his shoulders to steady him back down against the tree before rushing off to borrow a salve from Oin to soothe the pain. 

When he returned again, a sharp bitter scent filled the air and before Thorin could protest and convince him that; honestly, he was fine, Bilbo carefully pushed away the folds of his tunic to apply the ointment. Bilbo winced at the scabbing and leftover blood but continued until he was satisfied, all the while murmuring to himself about how big of an idiot Thorin is which only served to make the smile on his face grow.

Being bitten by a warg was definitely worth this

~~~~~~

"I'll vouch for him."

Silence fell upon the crowd as they looked to the hobbit among the cluster of dwarves.

"Now, I have travelled far with these dwarves through great danger, and if Thorin Oakenshield gives his word, then he will keep it." His eyes never stray from Thorin's as they're eventually accepted in Laketown. They only stared at eachother as something new grew between them. Something that was always there but slowly was coming into focus.

~~~~~~

They danced around each other. Neither dared to whisper a word as the rest of the company watched on gravely. The danger of Smaug was approaching and the least favorable time for any sort of romance to start. They solemnly made their way to Erebor in silence.

~~~~~~

Thorin accepts his feelings for Bilbo on the boat ride to Erebor. He is keeping watch as the rest are sleeping with the moon waxing soft light along the ripples in the water. His heart opens to the light trickling from the sky as he stares upwards with no particular observation being made.

Sometimes he regrets leading his love into such peril but they would have never met otherwise. A cruel fate- he thinks to himself.

He used to be untouchable. Detached. Controlled. Feelings did not exist to him if it got in his way of leading his people. There was no time to acknowledge the raging tempest of emotions from the various traumas he's experienced in his life when there were things like food and shelter for an entire race to worry about. 

But then he met Bilbo and suddenly there's a tingle in his fingers. Suddenly it's like there isn't enough air in the room and whenever Bilbo smiles— Mahal have Mercy, it's like he colors the sunsets and gives light to the stars and Thorin has fallen so utterly deep and hard for this hobbit. 

Slowly coming to, he tilts his head to look to the peace that graces Bilbo's face whenever he's asleep. Thorin shakes his head to himself as his heart yearns for him but a weak promise of " _Soon"_ to himself stays his tongue.

~~~~~~

He's pinning him to the wall with fists clenched on the front of Bilbo's clothes and teeth bared but he doesn't remember how it all happened. Fog clouds his thinking as he tries to pick out his memory piece by piece but he can't think clearly. He only watches as Bilbo leaves with the Elves and Men, padding away solemnly by the wizard's side.

 

. . .

 

He didn't realize he was screaming until Dwalin's firm grip on his shoulder shook him to reality. A single word wasn't spoken for the eternity of silence that stretched between them but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was a moment of understanding as Dwalin knelt beside him and closed his eyes in respect. Hard as he might try, there was no prying him from Bilbo as he stared at his face.

When his vision blurred enough, he could pretend he was merely dozing and the snow that dusted the battlefield would melt away to a grassy hill in the Shire. Far away from the bloodshed and tears and peril. If only he had known. If only he was there to protect him. If only he could've done something—

"Laddie, y'alright?" 

Thorin was jerked from his mind as he blinked up to Dwalin's face full of concern. He took off his knuckle dusters and carefully reached out to brush off the rivers that ran down his face and were unnoticed beforehand.

He blinked away the remainder of the tears in surprise, bringing up a hand of his own to wipe them away until Dwalin pulled him in a bone crushing hug. Thorin fell limp against him, a sob ripping through his chest as he curled into himself. They stayed like that for a while until the hints of dawn peaked the sky.

"You loved him." Dwalin didn't question or hint at it. He merely made the statement.

"Yes." Thorin confirmed, his voice hoarse from the shouting and crying. Dwalin only nodded to himself, watching the sun slowly make it's ascent. The strange serenity that followed made Thorin's heart clench at the painful irony of the intertwined fate of peace and death.

"I'm sorry." 

.

.

.

"I know."

 

. . .

 

With Bilbo, he saw life in colors that didn't exist but now that he's gone, no colors exist at all.

 

. . .

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed it, please leave a kudos or a comment :)
> 
> my tumblr is [bagqinshield](http://bagqinshield.tumblr.com) if you wanna check me out there and yeah! thank you for reading <3


End file.
